Batman's Underwear

Disclaimer: These characters all belong to Janet Evanovich. I just asked them to come out and play for a while. They'll be home in time for dinner.

Warnings: These characters are adults. They think, talk, and act like adults. If you are easily offended or are underage, please do not read any further.

A/N: My very first One Shot. If you love it, if you hate it, please review. I won't know how I'm doing unless you tell me. Thanks!

Batman's Underwear

Sunday morning dawned grey and gloomy. The rain that splattered against my windows pretty much reflected my mood. I hadn't heard anything from Ranger since Wednesday morning, and I was starting to get a little nervous. He had left more than a week ago and had called me two or three times everyday, until Wednesday, that is. He was supposed to have returned two days ago. He usually hauled me out of bed on Sunday mornings, rain or shine, to go running. Ranger's idea of church. No Ranger this morning.

He always told me that no news was good news and that I would be informed if anything ever happened to him. Not exactly comforting, but necessary in his line of work. Tank was first on his contact list, and he would tell me. I loved Tank. But I always prayed that he never showed up at my door when Ranger was gone.

I had just finished pulling on my clothes when the doorbell rang. I froze. If it was Ranger, he simply would have picked the locks and let himself in. So would the guys, unless... My heart was pounding in my chest. Oh God, oh God, oh God ... I flew to the door and put my eye to the peephole. A FedEx deliveryman stood on my welcome mat. I let out the breath I had been holding, and opened the door. I signed for the large envelope and brought it in to my kitchen table.

It was just a flat shipping envelope, couldn't hold a bomb or body parts. No return address. Oh, what the hell! I tore open one end and shook it. Two folded sheets of paper drifted out and floated to the floor. I picked up what looked like a page from a magazine and unfolded it. It was a page from a Victoria's Secret catalog. I grabbed the other piece of paper, a sheet of stationary. I unfolded it to find Ranger's beautiful scrawl. 'Uniform inspection. Monday night. 6 pm. Haywood Building. 7th Floor.' I laughed until I cried.

I finished getting dressed, stuffed the catalog page in my purse, jumped in my car and flew to Quakerbridge Mall. Victoria's Secret, here I come! I should probably buy stock in the company. You see, unless you take my long hair and boobs (such as they are) into consideration, when I'm in my RangeMan uniform, I look like a guy. Stand me next to Hector, for instance, and from the back, there's no difference. Black boots, cargos, T-shirt, windbreaker, cap, and utility belt ... unisex! I've taken my stance as a woman by always having a French manicure and wearing perfume and makeup. That's the outside look. But under the uniform, oh boy! Unless I'm scheduled for a takedown or a redecorating job, anything where I'll need real physical freedom of movement, I wear sexy lingerie. Under all that black lurks red, pink, purple, sapphire, pale green, leopard, cheetah, and tiger print undies. The ribbons, rosebuds, lace, and satin next to my skin, make me feel female.

Not too long ago I had come into my cubicle at work to find a box on my desk. Upon opening it, I found it to be filled with black, Jockey style bikini panties and sports bras with the RangeMan logo embroidered on each piece. The bras had the logo over the left breast, where it was placed on the uniform T-shirts, but the bikinis had the logo dead center, over the pubic bone. There were seven sets. If it had been one set, I would have thought it was a joke. But seven? Somebody was serious. I looked around the room and couldn't find anyone watching to see my reaction; every RangeMan was engrossed in his work. There could only be one culprit, the same one who had told me that he liked seeing his name on my breast. I picked up the box and headed for Ranger's office.

I knocked on the door and opened it to find Tank, Lester, and Bobby sitting in front of Ranger's desk. "Hey Babe. What can I do for you?"

I placed the box on his desk. "Did you arrange for this," I asked with a smile.

Ranger lifted the lid and everybody looked inside. The boys snorted and barked laughs. Ranger just gave me his wolf grin. Lester picked up a pair of the panties and held them up in front of himself. The logo placement was not lost on the group.

"Well Babe, since RangeMan provides all uniforms, and anything that you wear on the job is considered part of the uniform ... "

"Ah hah. So everyone is issued RangeMan underwear?"

"Well, ..."

I turned and looked at the boys who couldn't or wouldn't meet my eyes. Lester had tears streaming down his face, Bobby was rubbing his head with both hands, and Tank was staring at the ceiling, biting his lip.

I smiled at them sweetly. "Okay, gentlemen, drop trou."

Tank and Bobby blanched. Ranger just tipped back his chair. Lester, of course, jumped up and hollered "Yes, Ma'am!", snapped me a salute and immediately started to unbuckle his utility belt. I stood and watched with my arms crossed over my chest. When he got to the zipper on his cargos, Ranger yelled "Halt!".

"Sorry Bombshell, I was looking forward to showing you what you were missing. I could make you a very happy woman." Lester leered at me and waggled his eyebrows. I just laughed and shook my head.

Somehow or another, Ranger missed the humor in Lester's friendly banter and glared at him threateningly. "Babe, RangeMan offers its employees the option of going commando."

I arched an eyebrow at him (I had finally learned how to do that!) and looking him square in the eye asked, "Then that option extends to me, also?"

Ranger choked back a laugh. "Absolutely Babe. By Law, all RangeMan employees must be treated equally. You certainly have every right to go commando if you so choose, otherwise, starting tomorrow ..." and he pointed to the box. "Oh, and Babe, there'll be a uniform inspection tomorrow."

I narrowed my eyes at him, the bastard. He knew just how to get what he wanted. He stood there, giving me that smug grin. I wanted to clobber him with something ... heavy! I picked up the box and marched out of his office. I could hear the gales of laughter through the closed door. My 'friends' were having quite a laugh at my expense. With friends like those ...

Word of the 'joke' spread like wildfire and by lunchtime, employees in Boston and Miami knew what was going on. I had placed the box on the extra chair in my cubicle, but every time I left to go to the restroom, or lunch, or to deliver the results of a search, it was obvious that someone had been into the box, taking a peek. One little devil had even taken out a set and taken a picture with a digital camera and had sent it to every RangeMan computer in the company, including mine. My humiliation was complete. The day just couldn't end quickly enough.

Five o'clock finally came and I carted the box down to my car and threw it into the backseat. I stopped at Tasty Pastry on my way home and bought a dozen assorted donuts. I needed comfort food tonight. I was a combination of hurt, angry, and humiliated; lard and sugar would help. After I had eaten myself into a carbohydrate-induced coma, I assumed my thinking position and pretty soon, was fast asleep. I dreamed of pelting Ranger with Boston Creams while wearing that underwear, me not him.

By the next morning I realized that there wasn't much I could do about the undies and just got dressed. Since I was having dinner at my parents' that night, I made sure that my hair looked great and prayed that it would last all day. I even spent extra time on my makeup. Mom wouldn't have any reason to criticize. I packed pretty lace and satin undies and a change of clothes in my duffle.

Every article of the RangeMan uniform, from cap to cargos bore the RangeMan logo, now even my underwear. It was bad enough that my uniform T-shirt was a tight little V-neck number, but it was short enough to be considered a belly shirt. I felt like a walking advertisement for RangeMan and I decided that, from now on, I wouldn't stay in uniform a minute longer than I had to. Ranger wasn't gonna get any more free publicity outta me.

From time to time, Ranger did do uniform inspections and I wondered whether he'd try that with me today. I mean, he couldn't make me strip down to my underwear to inspect it, could he? If he tried, I'd kick him in the balls.

I was pretty sure that every RangeMan eye would be on me this morning, just to see what my attitude would be. I cheerfully smiled and waved to the security camera as I got out of my car and went to the elevator. I got on board and when the doors pinged open on 5, every head turned in my direction. "Oh gimme a break, guys!" I laughed and shook my head at them. I went into the break room and got my usual cup of coffee, saying good morning to everyone I met on the way. I ran into Lester who was after coffee, too. He took my duffle out of my hand and followed me into my cubicle. While we chatted, I put down my coffee and stashed my purse and duffle in my bottom desk drawer and prepared to get to work. I unzipped my RangeMan windbreaker and peeled it off, hanging it over the back of my chair. When I turned around, Lester promptly snorted hot coffee through his nose.

His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish and his eyes bugged out of his head. "Something wrong, Lester?" He was trying to mop the coffee off his shirt.

"Bombshell ... Steph ... you're ... you ... where ..." Lester, at a loss for words! Will wonders never cease?

Like one of those carnival games where you try to hit the head with a mallet as it pops up out of a hole, heads popped up over the cubicle walls all over the office. What I wouldn't give for that mallet. Cell phones were whipped out and I'm sure at least one digital camera made an appearance. There was gonna be a new picture circulating through the company.

Lester stumbled out of my cubicle and went into the Comm Room, I'm sure to reset the positions on the internal security cameras. Good, let 'em all watch. I started to work on my first search. Everything went well until my printer went flooey. It does this on a regular basis. I had the option of waiting for someone from IT to come and fix it, or I could do it myself. I chose to do it myself. This entailed my climbing on top of my desk on my hands and knees and leaning behind the printer. Which I did. What I didn't realize is that from that particular angle, you could see up my shirt. Honest to God, I didn't do it on purpose! I wouldn't flash my boobs at anybody much less the guys I work with.

About 3 minutes into my quick fix on the printer, a hand grabbed my arm and dragged me unceremoniously off my desk. I lost my balance and wound up flat on my back on the floor, thunking my head on the base of my chair. In that position, my shirt barely covered my nipples, and when I reached up to rub my head, it only made matters worse. Since the hand had belonged to Ranger, my nipples were standing at attention, like the good little soldiers that they were.

Ranger was furious. He hauled me to my feet and dragged me out of my cubicle and down the hall into his office so fast that I had to run to keep up with him. Jiggling all the way. He shoved me into one of the guest chairs in front of his desk and paced his office like a caged jungle cat. If I hadn't known him so well, I would have been afraid of him. As it was, he didn't intimidate me. I really hope he wasn't trying. Plus, my head hurt too badly to focus on him.

"Why the hell did you do this?"

"Do what, Ranger?"

"Come in here like ... like that!" He pointed to my chest. "Are you out of your mind?"

"Oh you hold it right there, bub. You're the one who gave me the options. You're the one who laid down the rules. You just didn't think I'd play and now you're pissed because I did."

"Okay, I give up. You win. Now go put on some underwear. None of my men are good for anything; every eye is glued to your chest. Most of them can barely walk because they all have hard ons."

"I don't think so Ranger. This was really a great idea. Going commando is very liberating. I imagine being confined in tighty whiteys is pretty much the same as being trussed up in a bra. I'm really enjoying this new found freedom."

"Stephanie ..." He tried to sound threatening. I tried not to laugh.

"Tell you what. When each and every RangeMan employee receives 7 pairs of briefs or boxers, their choice, with the company logo embroidered right over the family jewels and are required to wear them, I will be more than happy to wear the undies that you have provided as part of my uniform. After all, you're the one who said that by LAW, all employees must be treated equally."

Ranger glared at me through narrowed eyes. "What will it take for you to wear underwear ... now?"

Ohhhh, we're negotiating! Dr. Phil would be so proud! "RangeMan, or my own? Because the RangeMan stuff is like wearing BatMan or Barbie, or G.I. Joe undies. Makes me feel like a little kid. The only thing missing is the day of the week stamped on the butt."

Ranger growled at me. I gave him my 'wide eyed, innocent' look. "Either, or, anything you want, just as long as you wear it every day." He ground out through gritted teeth.

I looked him square in the eye, no humor anymore. "If I agree, I assume that this entire issue will be closed forever. Yes?"

He gave me one of his famous, almost imperceptible nods. I raised my eyebrows. "Yes, Stephanie. The issue is closed."

I nodded back at him and stood to leave. A wave of dizziness washed over me and I slumped back into the chair, holding my head. Ranger crossed to me and gently ran his fingers over the back of my head. "Jesus, Babe. You have a knot the size of a goose egg. Why didn't you say something?"

"From the look on your face, I thought it more likely that you'd strangle me, not be concerned about my head."

Ranger sighed and pulled out his cell phone and hit a number. "Bobby. I need an ice pack in here, stat." He snapped the phone shut and gently picked me up. He carried me over and laid me on the couch. Sitting on the edge, he leaned over me. I was still holding my aching head, but when I looked up into his eyes, they were glittering black pools, the gaze directed at my chest. He put a hand on the stretch of bare skin between the top of my cargos and the bottom of my shirt and slowly moved it upward. I held my breath as his hand cupped my breast, his eyes now locked onto mine. Bracing his weight on his forearm, he worked his other hand into my hair to hold my head in place. I watched, mesmerized, as his mouth ever so slowly lowered to meet my lips. My eyes fluttered shut in anticipation. He was a breath away when ... his office door flew open and the Three Stooges burst in, falling all over each other.

"Who hit who?"

"Jesus Christ! You really hit her?"

"Oh my God, Bombshell ..."

The moment was gone. Ranger and I snapped back into reality.

Later on, when the dizzies passed, Ranger walked me back to my cubby. "I really was looking forward to that uniform inspection," he said a little wistfully.

Ranger stood and watched as I pulled out my duffle and I took out the undies I had packed. For the sake of the company, I'd put them on now. As I turned to go to the restroom, I dropped the panties. Ranger bent and picked them up. His eyes met mine and then looked back at the small piece of satin and lace he held in his hands.

"Is this what you usually wear under your uniform?" Those black pools were back again.

"Um hum." I found I couldn't think much less make a coherent statement.

He ran his hand over the sapphire blue satin and lace. He fingered the tiny pink satin rosettes on the sides and looked at the matching bra that I held as he handed the panties back to me.

He took a ragged breath, bent his head and whispered in my ear. "I'm gonna have a hard time not picturing you in those every time I look at you, Babe."

I smiled up at him. "Good, we're even. I have a hard time not picturing you going commando every time I look at you," I whispered back.

That got me his 200-watt smile.

He put his hand on the small of my back and walked me towards the restroom, running his fingers up under my shirt, over my bare back. When we got to the door, I looked up at him. He lowered his head and shook it slightly, as if to clear it, and purred deep in his chest. "Babe," was all he said as he removed his hand.

"Maybe RangeMan should institute private uniform inspections?" He gave me his wolf grin.

"For the good of the company, of course." And I gave him mine.

I went into the restroom and closed the door behind me, leaning against it. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. It had all been a lesson well learned, for both of us. When he pushes, I have to push back. I'd need to file that away for future reference. I also found out something about me. I like to win, I like to win a lot. But in this case, I think we may both have won, and I didn't mind at all.

So, here I am, in the elevator on my way to the 7th floor. It's exactly 5:59pm Monday evening. The doors opened and I saw Ranger, leaning his forearms high on the frame of the apartment doorway, waiting for me. His hair, still damp from the shower, hung loose around his shoulders, just the way I love it. He was shirtless and barefoot, wearing only black sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips, and his devastating smile.

I put my hands behind my back and slowly sauntered over to him. "Stephanie Plum reporting for uniform inspection, sir."

Ranger put his arms around me and kissed me until I could feel my blood flowing through my veins and I was breathless, all the while drawing me through the door into the apartment. He proceeded to thoroughly inspect every single piece of my uniform as he peeled it off my body and proclaimed himself to be very pleased with my appearance.

I was wearing the bra and panty set that he had circled on the Victoria's Secret catalog page he had sent me. Ranger informed me that, now, testing would begin on the suitability of this particular set to be included as part of my official RangeMan uniform. Ranger would personally be conducting tests for flexibility, durability, ease of removal, access, elasticity, fabric density, and colorfastness in the presence of saliva and other bodily fluids. Oh boy!

Several hours later, when we were both reduced to masses of quivering and totally sated flesh, I asked him, "Well, were you pleased with the test results?"

"Ahhhrrrg."

I took that as a 'Yes'.

The End